


A Letter before Obon

by goro_kaneda



Category: No Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:46:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29534265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goro_kaneda/pseuds/goro_kaneda
Summary: A piece of lore for my tanuki character Daimonji and his late husband Gomajiro





	A Letter before Obon

To my beloved Gomajiro,  
  
  
I hope this letter reaches you in perfect condition, but I'm pretty sure it'll reach you no matter where it's sent from. I prefer doing it from the altar at home since it's within reach, and we both know how much of a lazy ass I can be at times. With the bar growing ever so busy and the time of Obon approaching, my time's been consumed by either preparations for the holiday or taking care of the bar itself. As of this writing, the laundry basket's already overshot its capacity and there's already a mountain forming above it. The stench could be smelt from the entrance to the washer and if you were here right now, you'd probably just take care of it yourself. You always did spoil me whenever you could, but I guess that was something left over from our old living arrangement. Sometimes I look back at the days before we met with much embarrassment and cringing, but don't we all make mistakes during our youth?  
  
  
The cold winds have long passed, yet no matter how many years it came and went it still made your absence all the more unbearable. In the bar I'd imagine you there messing up my hair asking how business went and I'd tell you squarely if we're having any losses. When I'd drive home I'd imagine you were at the passenger's seat, bitching to no end about how your father kept pulling you back into your family's construction empire. At home when I'd cook up a stew, I'd hear your voice from the table telling me to skip the garlic but my stubborn ass would still do, chopping them so fine that you wouldn't notice. In the bath I'd imagine you cuddling me from behind while we sat in chamomile-scented water. Then in bed, where your space remained unoccupied all these years, I'd imagine you running your hand on my cheek, looking at me so warmly with those droopy eyes as you say good night and turn off the lights, drawing me closer to you. Even with all that, my imagination could only sate so much.  
  
  
What's making all these bearable is the fact that we could meet again when Obon came. Even if I'm in a land that didn't celebrate the holiday, as long as I hang the lantern in front of the house and light some incense on the altar, for those days we could meet and talk to each other in my dreams. Maybe it's because of fate, or maybe it's because I'm partly a mythical being coming from the motherland that this is even possible. Still, I'm grateful to the gods for allowing this to happen. Though if you keep telling me you'd wait for me before crossing the other side of the river, don't expect me to take you seriously when you tell me to go find someone else already even if you keep telling me it's fine. Like I said, I'm stubborn. Plus you'll be waiting for a while as tanuki like me live for a good century or so.  
  
  
One wish I have though is that I could introduce the youngins that I've ended up playing dad for. There's the polar bear running a cafe a few blocks from here, a naive and confused mess, not too different from me before we found each other that day in the streets. Maybe it was because I saw so much of my old self in him that I just couldn't leave him alone. Then there's his friend, a jock of a brown bear, completely gaga over him but wouldn't say anything because 'it's not the right time'. I swear I'm inching closer and closer to the day where I'd just lock them in a room and keep the key until they finally talk it out. Apart from those two, there's this other tanuki with a leaf floating over his head, really abrasive with his words but means well. If you were still around, we'd end up driving these kids insane with one dad joke after another.  
  
  
There's a lot more I want to tell but if I did, we'd have nothing else to talk about when Obon comes. Until then, hope you enjoy the ice cream mochi I left on the altar. The polar bear made those by the way. Pretty good, right?

Your husband,  
Daimonji


End file.
